Moonlight Sonata
by meibii
Summary: So this is a new side of Bright... Who would have guessed?Very light and pretty slash. Don't like don't read.


This is my first ever. I'm so exited! I do hope you like Bright and Ephram... Please read and review. And I'm awfully sorry if there's a lot of errors in the text since I don't have a beta and English is not even my native language.

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**Moonlight sonata**

"Hurry up , I'm freezing here!" He tugged on his jacket and hopped up and down a couple of times to make it sound convincing. Bright was pulling on the lock. "Sorry. Wrong key." He turned a new one. "There!"

The boy stepped inside and Ephram closed the door behind them. Bright took of his jacket and tossed it in the closet. He did the same. Bright turned to him, looking confused for a while but then rubbed his hands together.

"Do you want something to eat or could we just…"

"No, no, lets get down to business", Ephram said, mimicking the hand-rubbing.

Bright smiled, relieved. "Okay." He began rolling up his sleeves. "Just take your shirt of for starters." Ephram obeyed and tossed his sweater somewhere near the couch. "Oh, wait!" He jumped at Brights shriek. "I'll go get some wood! It's freakishly cold in here and fire will give the right kind of mood, yeah?" Ephram just nodded, because how are you supposed to react to something like that. Bright was on his way out the back door when he took a look at Ephram, holding his arms around his naked torso. He rushed back, grabbed something from the closet and buried the little boy in his huge winter coat.

"Don't catch a cold", he said while walking out the door.

Ten minutes later a sleepy fire was dancing in the fireplace and Ephram was able to take the coat off. He held his face towards the flames to warm up his nose. Guess that's why summer cabins are called _summer _cabins, he figured. They're not that much fun in the winter.

Bright was rummaging around in the closet, yet again. Ephram rubbed his nose to get the blood circulating and took a deep breath.

"Where do you want me?"

Bright stuck his head out when he heard the question. He looked around the small room. "On the floor I guess. Right there, by the fire."

Ephram obeyed, lying down on the floor. He heard Bright shut the closet door.

"No, silly. On your back!" Bright chuckled. "Here, put this under you." Ephram took the blanket he held up and laid down again.

"Why on my back?"

"Don't know. I think it'll be easier that way. I'll get some supplies, don't move."

Ephram wiggled his toes that pointed straight to the fire. So warm. Bright walked around lighting candles and then he put of the lights. Ephram couldn't help but frown a bit, but then Bright knelt beside him and grinned like a fool.

"Okay. Now just try to relax."

Ephram shut his eyes and took three long, deep breaths. His brain felt a little weightless after that but whatever to make it feel easier, right? He heard a cork pop open and Bright give a gentle "ngh" as he squeezed something. Bright hovered over him and then he felt it make contact with his body.

"Nnh! It's cold!"

"Sorry. I can't really warm it up, can I? I'd just get mess all over myself."

Ephram changed the position of his shoulder, feeling comfortable again. He peeked under his eye lash.

"So what colour is it?"

"I'm starting with a deep purple." Ephram raised his eye brows, but then nodded, because he really wasn't the expert in this area, was he? He listened to Brights concentrated silence.

"It tickles."

"You'll get used to it. I'll try to be careful."

Ephram tried to relax again, forcing Bright to stop and then start again.

"Are you going to tell me what you're painting?"

"No."

"But I have the right to know!" Ephram was almost whining.

"You'll see it, okay?" A silence.

"Okay." Ephram pretended to be hurt. He couldn't pull it of very long, because a terrifying idea crossed his mind. "No porn, right?"

Bright actualle grinned. "I'm an artist. I don't do that kind of things." A pause. "Unless I'm paid." Ephram snorted but kept quiet, because every joke gets old eventually. He stared at the ceiling, trying to get used to the feeling of brush going slowly up and down his chest. This had to be the weirdest thing he had ever done and he had lived in New York! He couldn't quite remember why he had said yes in the first place. Bright had been so embarrassed to ask but somehow just that had been enough. Who else could he have turned to? It had been pretty amazing to find an artistic side in Bright in the first place.

Somehow it had brought them closer together. Ephram really liked Brights drawings. He was so shy about them, like he was afraid they were bad or something. It was something that Ephram had never felt about his music. He was always kind of proud to perform , play to someone. But when Bright had first shown Ephram his work, it made his want to compose his own music and after doing that he had understood what Bright felt like, When one creates something, it's like being born again and realizing that you're not who you thought you were. And he knew Bright felt even more. Bright didn't draw very often, because it was always mixed with regret. He said that when he put something on paper it had to be special. If it wasn't good or personal it didn't help if he ripped it afterwards. It mad already been made, it still existed. He called it the hangover. So when Bright wanted to do body painting Ephram knew it wasn't just an idea. It was important and well thought and Bright needed it.

"Stay still."

"Sorry. I'm just very aware of my belly button right now." The corner of Brights mouth twitched but he continued his work. He had moved from Ephrams ribs to his lower stomach, drawing very light lines, staying very focused. A small wrinkle that reminded Ephram of Dr Abbot had appeared between his eyes and his lips were half open from the concentration. His eyes were following every move of the brush he was holding. Every now and then he would stop, to blend a new shadde or to just stare at the job.

Little by little Ephram became less aware of his exposed torso and more aware of Bright. He noticed a light flush on the other boys cheeks. Between shallow breaths Brights lips moved, forming slow, unknown words even though he didn't make a sound. It made Ephrams stomach clench. For half an hour he watched Brights lips, trying to understand the story they spoke, to hear the secrets they held, but they wouldn't share their tales. Then his eyes moved to Brights. They were clouded, swept into a world of his own. Ephram didn't know what Bright saw but he himself could see millions of things in him. Even though the eyes were shut down, the boys soul seemed to watch right trough them. It was the scariest thing ever. Feeling washed over him like a warm spring wind and suddenly the world felt very open. It was so overwhelming that his breath hitched but Bright didn't seem to notice it.

Ephram closed his eyes and tried to forget the feeling. It had felt so good but at the same time he felt like he shouldn't ever get that close to someone. Like it was wrong.

He wanted to open his eyes but the experience had been too much so he held them shut. Trying to think of anything else he let Bright continue, knowing it wouldn't matter to him if Ephrams eyes were open or not.

Bright felt a familiar intensity in the air while he painted. Everything seemed to thicken and seize, creating a new world that existed in nothingness. The process of drawing was still strange to him. He didn't really feel anything while he worked, didn't really think of anything. That's why the time seemed to stop and fly by at the same time. The reality became a bit blurry. He was always afraid of what he did, of what would come to life. It seemed to take a hold of his soul, deciding what to paint instead of him. Nothing in expressing yourself was normal. It was always wrong and crooked if you really let it get a grip of your insides.

The canvas was breathing under him, the fire playing on it, creating shadows that shouldn't exist. His brush moved up, adding colours, meeting the curve of collarbone, making it come alive under his touch. Suddenly Bright remembered he wasn't alone this time. He saw Ephrams chest heaving slowly, up and down, up and down, almost as if he was asleep. It was the most beautiful, living thing he had ever witnessed. The feel of power rushed over him. He realized just how intimate the situation was. He was painting on Ephrams body, on his skin. It was like ruining something holy, something secret. There was a living being under him, lying there, taking it all in. Practically breathing for him so he could make something unreal a reality. Ephram allowed Bright to touch him like this, like…. a lover. There was no better word for it. Ephram knew what drawing meant to Bright, knew that every piece of art was a piece of his soul. And Ephram was willing to get closer to it than anyone ever before, willing to lay there while Bright painted a picture of himself on his skin. His hand began to shake at the thought.

Bright took a hold of Ephrams chin and lifted it, exposing the boys lean neck. Ephram gulped when he felt the brush move over the sensitive skin. Suddenly he felt vulnerable, certain that Bright could kill him.

It was a silly thought, he knew, but true. He was weaker, on his back, Bright upon him. If he decided to shove that brush trough his throat the sharp end first there was nothing Ephram could do about it. The thought was so strong it melt him, making his limbs heavy and numb. But at the same time he felt safe and it scared him.

They didn't know how long it had been, but after a moment Bright stopped. He rose, then sat on Ephrams thighs and looked. Ephram couldn't help but opening his eyes, looking back at Bright. His eyes were still clouded, far away.

"It's finished." He stood up, held out a hand and lifted Ephram from the floor. The boy looked unstable, not sure what to do with himself, not sure if he was allowed to touch himself, to see himself. Bright just stared at him for a while, then took him by the hand and led him to front door.

"Wha-"

"I know. I know it's cold and there's snow and you're half naked but-" Bright turned his clouded eyes to him, speaking in a choked, rushed voice. It looked almost manic.

"It's full moon", he said like it was obvious. "I have to see it."

Ephram really felt vulnerable now, not sure he was with the same Bright he came here with. But what could he do?

"Okay." It was said very quietly but immediately Bright put on his shoes, tossed Ephram his and opened the door. He held it open so Ehram could go before him and shut it behind them.

The lights from inside the cabin didn't shine to the front yard. It wasn't really a yard anyway. The trees were just a few steps in front of them. Ephram lifted his gaze up and saw a pitch black sky filled with millions of stars and a big pale moon that seemed to come nearer as he looked at it.

He had to admit it was mind blowing.

He turned around to say it to Bright but when he did he didn't find Bright looking at the moon, but him. There was an unreadable expression on his face, lips open, eyes sad like he had lost something very dear to him. And he was looking at Ephram. Not just the painting but Ephram, like he was a part of it. It made Ephrams heart freeze.

Bright hadn't ever seen anything like it. Ephram stood there, without a shirt in the middle of the snow, under the brilliant moon. The painting marred his white skin all over the left side of his body, crawling up till the end of his jaw. His cheeks were a little red from the cold and his breathing created little clouds of ice cold steam that faded away when it left his lips. The light of the moon played on him, forming shadows on his forehead and stomach and Bright felt like that was the most perfect thing he had ever created. Slowly he walked to Ephram, who looked more panicked with every step he took. When Bright was there, face to face with him it almost looked like he would run away but his legs would fail him if he tried to. Bright tied his arms around the smaller figure, drawing a muffled sob-like voice from Ephram. The boys heart was raising so fast Bright was sure it would burst out of Ephrams chest. He slid his hand into his soft hair and caressed his neck. It send shivers down Ephrams spine.

"N-no", Ephram was whimpering.

"I don't believe you", Bright said with a low rough voice, holding onto Ephrams shivering body more tightly. A wounded voice came out of the boy, almost like an animal. "I'm so scared", he whispered. Bright held his neck with both hands, keeping him close and said very softly, right next to his ear:

"Let me protect you."

Ephram felt every drop of power being sucked out from him, his heart feeling so heavy, warm and cold at the same time. Then Bright took his jaw into hi hand and lifted it so he could meet Ephrams eyes. And Brights eyes weren't clouded anymore. They were so open and intense, just for him to see, that Ephram couldn't breathe any longer. The taller boy leaned closer, brushing his lips over Ephrams. There was a tight knot in his stomach. Then Bright took him by the shoulder and looking at him for the final time led him inside. There, just beside the front door was a big old mirror and when Bright shut the door Ephram saw the painting.

It was a winter forest, black and purple sky, stars and falling snow. Tens of creatures that looked like candle flames were dancing in the snow all over his chest, disappearing behind the blue trees.

Bright felt Ephram shudder. The boy raised a hand to cover his eyes but Bright could see something wet escaping from between the fingers. He placed his hands on Ephrams shoulders and pressed his chest against Ephrams back.

"Hey", he whispered, deep worry in his voice. "What's wrong?"

With a choked sound Ephram took away his own hand and stared at his own picture. Every syllable he got out was shaking.

"I c-can see- into my heart."


End file.
